Coffee Leads To Interesting Things
by SpaceMonkey0941
Summary: The day had begun so normally for Lydia Winter, but then he came along. Lydia is BiteMeTechie's. T for safety. McWinter shipping!


A/N: Haha, I think Reefgirl also recently did a response to this challenge (from BiteMeTechie's 100 starting lines on the WPBA forum) Line #114: "The day had begun so normally..." and it was really good so check hers out too. Mine's a one-shot tho. -is sad because attention span is too short to write anything longer than a chapter- -wanders off to find shiney objects-

A/N2: Stargate Atlantis is not mine. Neither is David Hewlett. And to make it all worse, one of the best OCs ever created, Lydia Winter, belongs solely to BiteMeTechie (thanks for letting me borrow her again by the way). I own a laptop and an overactive imagination. Nothing more.

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The day had begun so normally, or as normally as can be expected of a floating city on a distant planet in a galaxy far far away. I had gotten up early, wanting to finish the research I'd been doing on a new Ancient device we'd discovered in the catacombs beneath the city, and I was just starting on my fifth cup of coffee when the caffeine from the first four hit.

"YOWEE!" I screeched, causing people to poke their heads out of their labs to see what the commotion was. I didn't notice them, though, or really care about them, now I was just trying to deal with the sudden rush of energy.

"Hoo-boy," I said, forcing myself to calm down. Take deep breaths, Lydia. Deeeeep breaths. That's it. Keep breathing. Good girl. Okay. One more deep breath now. Let it out.

"AAAAAAAAAH!"

Nonono, let it out _slowly_.

Siiiiigh.

There we go. Okay! That was fun! Woohoo! Coffee high! Yeah! Hooboy! Okay! Calming down now! Yeah! Seriously! I'm really actually going to calm down now! Ah who am I kidding? Let's PARTY!

Jumping out of my chair, I skip brightly over to the speaker system in the corner, turning the volume up and starting to dance around to the wonderful strains of The Time Warp.

This goes on for a while, probably twenty minutes or so, then, as I am executing a particularly awesome rock jump with my eyes closed, the music stops.

This causes me to be confused, which in turn causes me not to think about coming down out of the jump smoothly, so I . . . don't.

Oof.

"Doctor Winter, what the hell do you think you're doing?" the irate voice of my number-one absolute _favorite_ astrophysicist bellows.

I untangle myself from the legs of my swivel-chair and get to my feet in a semi-dignified fashion, sniffing haughtily and brushing myself off.

"I am doing, Doctor McKay, whatever the hell I feel like doing," I retort to the temporary annoyance that had installed himself in my lab. "Which, at the moment, happens to be dancing to Rocky Horror Picture Show."

He snorts. Now, normally, this would have been just one of many many many little annoying things Rodney McKay does in a day, but for some reason (possibly the immense amounts of caffeine in my system) it just bugs the hell out of me even more than usual, and I decide that enough is enough.

"Just shut it, McKay," I command. Surprised, he does. Emboldened by this victory, I continue.

"Good, you've completed the first step of Annoyers Anonymous. Next is for you to get the hell out of my lab before I punch your snivelling little face in."

His face turns a rather interesting shade of puce. Wait. Hold on a minute.

Momentarily puzzled, I turn to my desk and shove papers out of the way until I find my trusty pocket-sized Webster's.

Puce: _adj_. Of a brilliant purplish-red color or hue.

Yep. He's puce. Turning back to the maroon maroon, I decide to finish him off before he explodes all over my (ahem) clean office.

"Oh go suck on a lemon, McKay, you don't scare me so you might as well quit it with the blowfish impressions and go away."

Apparently my sarcasm is lost on him, as he continues opening and closing his mouth in the fashion of the aforementioned aquatic being.

"You . . . you . . . you . . . you . . . geek!" he splutters. I laugh at his feeble attempt at an insult.

"And proud of it, McKay. Wise up and get a life."

I push the still-spluttering scientist out of my lab gently. He lands on his rear, which snaps him out of his stallment.

"Hey!" he shouts.

"Hey yourself, McKay. I'm sick of you coming into my lab and criticizing me without any provocation. I'd be more okay with it if I had deserved it, but you don't seem to bother with that so you can just shove it somewhere painful and leave me the hell alone."

This speech delivered, I step back into my lab. Unfortunately, the moment is ruined by the fact that those stupid Ancient sliding doors don't seem to slam. Dammit. There goes my perfect exit.

Oh, plus, I haven't figured out how to actually _lock_ the door to my lab, so after approximately three seconds of peace, it is opened again by a very pissed-off Rodney McKay. He storms in, then shuts the door behind him with a wave of his hand.

As he starts to advance upon me menacingly, I gulp and scrabble around on my desk for the emergency bottle of lemon juice I keep there for just such an occasion. Damn it, where'd it go? I guess I should try to keep the numerous piles of work slightly separated from each other, so I can find the important stuff quickly.

Unfortunately in this case I can't.

He grabs my wrists and shoves me against the wall. Looking at his face, I begin to think that _maybe_ I've gone a bit too far. You can almost see the steam coming out of his ears, and his eyes have a look in them that makes me more than a little uncomfortable.

"Um, McKay?" I say in a small voice, fully prepared to cut my losses and grovel. Anything to get out of this . . . eh . . . position.

"Look, about the blowfish thing, well let's face it, you did look kinda funny," I continue. He growls low in his throat, something he's apparently picked up from that caveman Dex. Apparently my approach wasn't as smooth as I'd hoped.

"Er. Try this again. About the blowfish thing," I restart, but trail off quickly. He's still glaring at me, his eyes looking like shards of blue ice. Whoa, where'd that come from? Anyway.

"I'm . . . s- . . ." I try, but it won't come out.

"I'm sor- . . ." I try again, then choke on the last syllable.

I grit my teeth and remind myself that it's for my own good, but apparently Rodney is tired of waiting. He mutters an expletive and pins my arms to the wall above my head.

"I'm sorry!" I squeak, just before his mouth crashes down on mine and all rational brain activities cease to function.

_This guy has an interesting way of getting back at people_, I'm thinking, then the weirdness of the scene hits and I push him away roughly, wiping my mouth.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!" I yelp, backing away from him. My retreat ends up working about as well as slamming the door, because once again I trip over that stupidly placed yet extremely comfortable swivel chair, and he pounces.

Oof.

Looking up at those incredibly blue eyes, I'm speechless, partly because it's hard to talk and be kissed senseless at the same time, but partly because I still have no idea what the hell McKay is playing at.

Luckily, it seems he can read minds as well as kiss, because he pauses long enough to say huskily, "You have no idea how sexy you are when you're being forceful," before he proceeds to unbutton my shirt.

As I'm laying there, between the floor and an astrophysicist, for some reason I'm not nearly as mad about this as I should be. I'm actually . . . oh my god . . . starting to enjoy this! Ew! That is so wrong! Wait, is it? I can't actually think any more, I'm too busy yanking his shirt out of the waistline of his pants, and all that's going through my head is, _what the hell was in that coffee?_

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A/N: Heehee, Snarky shipping, fun fun fun! For anyone out there who has not discovered the joy that is Lydia Winter, go and read Retribution! and Retribution!Revisited, both by BiteMeTechie, and two of the most hilarious 'fics ever created.


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